What Could Have Never Been Expected
by littlelights
Summary: New day. New life. A new marriage. Jackie and Pete Tyler begin the strange task of building a new life for themselves in his world. Set in Pete’s world in the days following ‘Doomsday,’ this fic is a precursor to the story ‘Middle Aged Mulligan.’
1. Chapter 1

What Could Have Never Been Expected

By littlelights

New day. New life. A new marriage. Jackie and Pete Tyler begin the strange task of building a new life for themselves in his world. Set in Pete's world in the days following 'Doomsday,' this fic is a precursor to the story 'Middle Aged Mulligan.'

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His house was huge. He called it a house, but it was a mansion, really. One of those places she'd seen in the posh living magazines at the market checkout lane. Come to think of it, there was probably a photo spread of it in a souvenir calendar somewhere. The place was a green grass, crown molding extension of what upper-class living should be. Genuine art on the walls. Tasteful, muted colors from one room to the next. Turn a corner and you'll see someone folding, dusting and sweeping with military discipline. There were maids and a cook here for Christ's sakes.

And now, she was living there. Well, squatting actually. That's what it felt like when you were living in a place you didn't really belong.

As she ran her hand along the chair railing of the hallway, Jackie Tyler mentally cataloged the Tyler Mansion for the fourth time that morning. This was the place Pete Tyler, CEO of Vitex Industries, had built from razzle-dazzling the public with flashy energy drinks. He was also the man who ran this universe's version of Torchwood with a strong hand and determined demeanor.

But at the moment, Pete Tyler was sitting at the head of the breakfast table absorbed in a morning newspaper.

They weren't really married. Not to each other anyway. But they were as good as married in her mind. His too, from the way he held his arm around her back when they walked into a room. It was the way he angled his body, not physically pushing her through the doorframe, but rather allowing his body to act as a warm wall of support. Showing her he was right next to her, even if they were parting tempo for a few moments. He knew this whole experience was overwhelming, and he was taking care of her the way he hadn't for nearly two decades.

And judging from the newspaper's headline "Elusive Vitex Wife Returns to Tyler Mansion," the rest of this world's British-speaking population knew her status in his better than she did herself.

Jackie noticed how he always seemed to know when she was entering a room, as if his highly alert mind could anticipate the timing of her actions. It was weird in a way, but according to Mickey and Rose, that keen sense had saved his life on more than one occasion.

He pushed the paper away as stood. "Good morning," he said, a slight smile formed on his mouth and in his eyes, tossing aside the paper quickly and giving her a longer than polite kiss. She greeted him in kind, walking to the seat on his left. He moved to pull out her chair, and as she sat, his hand lingered on her a moment. "Breakfast is on its way."

It was the third morning she'd been living in his house, but he was outwardly acting like they'd been eating breakfast together for twenty years. Jackie was convinced he was playacting for the benefit of the servants, since they'd agreed to conduct most of their private conversations in a private setting.

Well, if she was playacting, at least she had the wardrobe to match the part. Dozens of boxes and bags from Harrods arrived at the house yesterday to fill the empty bedroom closet. Blouses, dresses, and posh ensembles were labeled by designers she'd only heard of in the gossip columns. Then there were a few pieces from others she would have never recognized. The clothes had thrilled her at first, but as she sat at the table in a lovely cream suit and pink silk top, Jackie tried to push away the feeling of being completely out of her element.

But fate had given her another go with this man; so she swallowed her doubts, and reached for the discarded newspaper.

"What's this?" she asked, skimming through the first few paragraphs of the article and trying to keep the bite out of her voice.

"Information leak," Pete replied, attempting to slip the broadsheet out of her grasp. "Some of my people are handling it."

Jackie refused to give up the paper, and began to read the article aloud. "Mrs. Tyler is recuperating from extensive stay in a remote medical facility. Her arrival at the Tyler Mansion conflicts greatly with her death registration from last year's foiled cyberman invasion. Sources close to the family report that although Mrs. Tyler is well physically, she looks as if she is still under intense emotional stress."

"The press is a pain in the ass here." Pete said with little emotion. "They'll take what they can get here, regardless of the real fact of the matter."

She continued. "Our sources also reveal Mrs. Tyler has undergone a extensive surgeries to not only make her appear younger, but to repair physical injuries associated with last year's conflict. It is unknown whether Mrs. Tyler will fully recuperate from her mental and bodily trauma, and no physicians close to her were at liberty to discuss the matter further."

So, this was one of the price tags to wealth, she realized. It shouldn't have bothered her, and any normal day it wouldn't have. But the article and his appraisal of it pushed the little unwanted thoughts in her head to bubble over. Sad, dark thoughts lingering from the moment she arrived in this world.

Jackie raised her head from the type, more than a little angry, at the man who was now, in the overbearing eye of the world, her husband. A husband who didn't properly prepare her for this moment, and then couldn't anticipate how she'd react to the situation.

And so the battle of wills began.

Their gazes met, and Pete's intense look reminded her that this man – this Pete Tyler – was his own person. Someone who had been shaped by measures of determination, focus, and purpose. There were some sharp edges with this one, she thought. He didn't suffer fools and he would not allow himself to be crossed.

It wasn't the first intense look she'd fielded from him, but she'd be damned before she'd let him know it bothered her. She held her ground, her eyes sharp behind the glow of Dior eye shadow and mascara. He held his own frustration in check with an edge born of boardroom practice and professional patience.

Neither and the gleam in his eyes flickered, then relented. A good businessman knew when to swallow his pride and begin anew. Especially if he was falling in love with the person he was calling 'wife'.

He reached for her, the newsprint lay neglected under their combined weight of their hands. "Jacks," he said, his voice tempered by an emotion he wasn't accustomed to voicing, "It's different here. I'm a public- we're people who live in the public eye. By tomorrow there will be a different headline and a new story to fill people's heads. The best firm in London is figuring out how to reintroduce you" he paused, "and me into the society. And none of the people who read this know what we've been through the last few days. But we'll know the real story."

He rubbed her hands, reassuring and tempering the shock and anger in her face. "It doesn't matter, and it will pass. Trust me. It will pass."

Jackie nodded her head, and caved. She trusted him, needed to trust him. They were living off memories from two lives co-existing from two different worlds. This was his world, and he knew it a hell of a lot more than she did. If you had to pass off the football to a teammate, it might as well be Pete Tyler, she reasoned.

"Okay," Jackie nodded. "Okay." She gave his hands a long squeeze, and let the paper fall out of her grip. Pete smiled, and it made her light up inside. He folded the newspaper with efficiency and placed it in a neighboring chair. Out of sight and out of her life.

"Rose and Mickey still asleep?" He asked changing the subject and sitting back into his chair and reaching for his coffee.

"Yeah," she replied. "They were up late talking again. They've got a lot of catching up to do, those two. Two nights in a row and they're not through yet."

"I'm tempted to leave him here again today," Pete said as he poured Jackie a cup of coffee. "I know you and Rose could use a familiar face around the house. He can help you get settled in a bit more."

"And he's been great," Jackie agreed. "We appreciate the company, but given everything, Rose needs him more than I do, I think."

They each sipped their coffee. The silence stretched like elastic, wrapping like a muzzle to their conversation as the breakfast dishes were served.

It was a lovely breakfast, Jackie thought. Two perfectly scrambled eggs with a portion of bacon and little triangles of toast. She could hardly think of eating it. It was what she told herself she had walked downstairs for, and now her stomach felt like it was turning to stone.

The maid left the room, and she looked at Pete's equally untouched plate. "What's wrong, Jacks?" he asked. There wasn't fear in his voice exactly, but a sort of bewilderment that came from unfamiliarity and an empty stomach.

Jackie took a short breath, released it, and said "I know this different, and you're not used to spending a lot of time here. You're busy. You wouldn't have gotten all this" she gestured to the room "without being away doing whatever it is you do. I get that. I really do, I just don't know…"

Mickey's sudden arrival acted as a cut off valve to her thoughts.

"Mornin'" said the younger man. He was dressed and ready for the day, a product of keeping long Torchwood hours. The purpose in Mickey's voice wasn't lost on the other two people in the room. "Is breakfast ready?" he asked. "I need to bring something to Rose. She might not like it, but she needs to eat."

"She's not coming down?" Jackie asked.

Mickey shook his head. "She's in a bad spot right now. Not at her best. I thought I'd give her a chance to breathe for a mo' before bringing her something. I know how she likes bacon. Might tempt her if she could have it upstairs. More privacy, you know."

He looked up from Jackie to speak to Pete. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to stick around here for another day or two. Make sure she's alright."

Pete glanced at Jackie, her eyes tight with a swirl of emotions. They weren't difficult to read. This Jackie didn't have much of a poker face.

He stopped, and made a decision. A better one than the one he'd formulated when he woke up this morning. It might have been the best decision he'd made since returning from the other London.

"You're welcome to stay," Pete said. "In fact, we're both staying here the rest of the week." His hands worked to loosen the knot on his tie. Jackie's teary smile inspired him to crack a lopsided grin of his own. "Tell Rose I'm staying here with her mother, and later we're all having lunch together outside. I'll make a few calls before we go out, but I think we have a few people can hold down the fort for us until Monday."

"Are we going somewhere?" Rose's voice floated from the hall. She was dressed, but her face was splotchy from tears. She had done her best to cover them up with a fresh layer of makeup.

Jackie sprung up from the table and gave her daughter a long hug. "Breakfast first, then we'll talk about what we're going to do today." She guided her daughter to the seat next to her own, as Mickey took filled the space next to Pete.

Two more breakfast dishes arrived, and although what transpired was a less than ideal type of breakfast, it was something akin to a step forward. It was a lot more than Jackie expected. But it worked, thank God.

She was even more thankful when the dishes were cleared away and Pete Tyler slipped his hand in hers under the table.

It wasn't perfect, but it was hers. Today she had a husband. She had her daughter. And she had a friend who had saved her life on more than one occasion. And she didn't let her mind linger on anything other than her loved ones around the table.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Experimentation_

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The media room was cozier than any other place of the house. Thanks to the oak paneling and plush carpet, it radiated a warm atmosphere which the harkened back to an earlier century. The deep leather couches and shelves lined with DVDs spoke of modern living with equally modern tastes. From the servant's gossip floating through the halls, it hadn't been used much at all since Pete Tyler bought the place.

He'd been too busy working to really appreciate the room, he explained to Jackie as they sat down. Movies didn't fit well into a hectic Vitex business schedule. And he was at a loss of what to watch, really. He hadn't gone to the movies in years.

Jackie spied _Britannic_ on the hardwood shelf and waved the case up in the air. "This any good?" she asked.

Pete put down his bottled water and kept his face perfectly blank. "It's about a ship. It sinks, you know. Not much of a plot, I imagine."

"I know that," Jackie shot him an 'I'm not daft' look. "Somehow they managed to squeeze 260 minutes into this thing." She stopped to read the movie description.

_Diligent English nurse Violet Jessop (Victoria Beckum) finds true love with an injured soldier (Guy Pierce) and escapes certain death when their hospital ship 'Britannic' collides with a submarine mine. With superior special effects and a vivid storytelling, "Britannic" broke box office records world wide before being banned in Germany for 'anti-German sentiment". _

"Looks alright," she said aloud.

"I think a bloke in that film got a BAFTA for his death scene." Pete commented, secretly enjoying the disgusted look forming on Jackie's face.

That did it. The film was as good as ruined. "He dies in the film?" She chortled. "Guy Pierce? Why did you tell me? I thought you hadn't seen this one."

"Met him at a party once," Pete explained, his memory sifting through the barrage of notables he'd met in the past few years. "At least, I think it was him. Here, show me the cover."

Jackie masked her surprise. Movie star? Pete Tyler ran in the same circles as movie stars? He never seemed to take much interest in life beyond his work with Vitex and Torchwood. It contrasted sharply with the Pete she'd married. More pie in the sky and dwelling in a world of his own making. But as she was getting to know this Pete, it wasn't hard to imagine him mingling with film stars, politicians. He seemed aloof, as if he was above all that hubabllo.

She tossed him the DVD case, which he caught easily. On the well designed cover, a very suave Guy Pierce embraced a rather stunning Victoria Beckham. Behind them, the doomed passenger liner cum short-term hospital ship was slipping under the waves in a dramatic angle.

Pete pondered the illustration for a moment. "Yeah, that's him. Seems to die a lot in the movies. He had a good attitude about it though."

Jackie cocked her head and eyed him quizzically. "How many times has he..?" She couldn't quite finish the sentence. There wasn't any real tension in her voice, more like an uncertain sort of curiosity.

Pete downed another swig of water, and in the act of thinking, rubbed his forehead. "Let me see, I think he was shot, fell off a cliff, trampled by horses, poisoned, strangled, run through with a javelin, and in this film, death by drowning."

"That's harsh." Jackie said as she took the film back. Talking about death with a man who had been as good as dead to her for 20 years was surreal.

"Not that harsh if the money's good," Pete reasoned, not unaware of the implications this topic was taking. To keep her thoughts from turning dark, his voice adopted a tone rich with sly humor. "Top end suits, Oban whiskey, posh friends. Acting keeps his type busy and well moneyed. And the money keeps him and the boyfriend living the high life London."

"Boyfriend?" The uneasiness in Jackie's voice fizzled in light of a new and interesting topic. "Guy Pierce?" It was an intriguing prospect. "He's gay?"

Pete shook his head while an amused smile spread across his face. "Riding the other zeppelin. That's what some people call it, anyway. In the other world does he like women?"

"Yeah. But he's married. Kids. All that stuff." She pushed _Britannic_ back onto the shelf and grabbed _The Pirates of Penzance_. A Gilbert and Sullivan musical starring, hold on a minute, Johnny Depp? Didn't they have _Pirates of the Caribbean_ here?

"_Pirates of Penzance_," Jackie stated while she looked at the cover. "This guy, Johnny Depp, he starred in a slew of pirate movies. The first one wasn't bad. He didn't sing in them, though. It was pirate slapstick with swords. Didn't know he could sing."

"It's a comedy. Let's watch it." Pete replied. "Unless you want something like East Enders."

"You have East Enders here?" Jackie asked flying through the DVD collection with renewed fervor. The oak shelves seemed to stretch like miles from one wall to the other. "I didn't think you would. Thought people might have some yen for soap opera zeppelin captains or the like. Oh damn, where is it?"

Jackie looked back at Pete, fully intending to bring him in on the search, when she saw the way he was wiggling the remote in a half taunting yet tempting fashion. So, he could be playful. Interesting.

"Command telly." He explained, flicking a series of buttons on the remote until he brought up the appropriate menu. "A year's worth of any show with the push of a button." He waited until she'd joined him on the couch. "Just about anything you want." The picture jumped to a screen with scrolling options. Large motion icons represented each show, giving mini previews of an episode. "Here," Pete said, handing her the remote, "You take it."

She looked down at the remote in her hands, glanced at the screen, and then to Pete. She understood, of course, that hell had just frozen over when a man willingly handed over the telly remote. Bloke wise, it was right up there with sharing the last beer from the fridge.

Jackie hadn't shared this kind of thing before. She only owned a few remote controlled electronics in her lifetime, and many of those were within the past few years. And none of them were this high tech. It had been an accomplishment when she'd learned to text message last year. This was an all together different technological animal.

"How's this thing work?" She asked, pointing the remote and holding it sidewise so she had a clear view of the buttons. "What? Do I move up and down if I don't see anything I like?"

Pete was patient. He was clearly amused, but was sweet about it. He didn't taunt her once through the slow process of choosing the show she wanted, how to transition to the previous menu, how to find her way back to the selection screen. It wasn't long before she was skimming through each menu screen with ease. They hadn't watched much of any one show or episode for that matter, but the experience of navigating the system seemed to absorb much of their attention.

Nearly two hours later, they were into the first nine minutes of some sort of MI-5 show starring Alan Rickman when she realized Pete's arm had found a comfortable home around her shoulders. Her body tensed for a moment, realizing she'd almost forgotten the world outside while absorbed in the dark shadows o the media room.

Pete stared at her for a second, and began to move away when she stopped him. She moved her shoulder to fit into the crook of his arm, and flashed him a smile. A darling smile. A smile which warmed one of hard places of his heart.

He was surprised and looked more than a bit grateful. "Ok then." He said wrapping his arm around her once more. Through the rest of the show, he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

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Three days passed with them walking around the Tyler estate, watching movies in the media room, and dining alfresco as the weather cooperated. They took tea together with Rose and Mickey outside everyday, and lingered over the remnants of their cups as the younger pair retreated to walk the back lawn like an Olympic event.

Rose was trying her best not to sink into a deep depression, and it showed. She still stayed awake well into the night, but she forced herself to keep going. Mickey stayed at her side the entire time. They had been best friends since childhood, and as they'd traveled together with the Doctor, he understood her longing better than anyone. He knew when she wanted to be coddled, and when she needed space to rail against the unfairness of the world.

She wouldn't stop believing the Doctor would come for her. Even if it meant leaving her mother and her friend behind forever. It was a world she wasn't committed to living in, and she couldn't fathom staying.

Jackie, on the other hand, felt as if her body was branching out and had sprung roots in the ground and around the body of Pete Tyler. And to her astonishment, it was easy. Simple. Effortless.

Saying goodnight each evening usually involved a few sincere words of parting. But the evening before he was scheduled to begin work, there had been a strange tango of kisses. They were each holding back, exchanging lips and shallow breaths but nothing too deep. Pete's practicality and Jackie's far stretching pride kept their hands from wandering too far. But it was becoming a painful balancing act.

When she studied her kiss-reddened lips in the bathroom mirror that night, a few more pieces of her resistance fell away. Pete had saved her life. Saved her daughter. He kept their lives sheltered and secure. He was everything he had ever really wanted. So, she thought, if Pete Tyler was her husband, it was time she invested as much as he and started being his true wife.

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